


Cherry Lips (Go Baby, Go)

by phosphenes (oceanboys)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bi Dean, Bisexual Dean, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Boys Kissing, Boys wearing 'girls' clothes, Charlie knows what's up, F/M, Kinda, Kissing, M/M, Pronouns, Usage of femme pronouns, genderfluid!cas, nonbinary!Cas, trans!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 23:14:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4240320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceanboys/pseuds/phosphenes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean was so far gone. If Sammy were to see him right now, he’d never let Dean forget it. Ever. He wasn’t really helping his situation with the whole ‘stumbling-over-your-own-legs’ and the ‘can’t-stop-drooling’ thing. Hell, both Charlie and Benny noticed. Then again, it you couldn’t really blame him, not when Cas was dressed like <i>that</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherry Lips (Go Baby, Go)

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Cherry Lips (Go Baby, Go)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4542339) by [tea_in_tea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_in_tea/pseuds/tea_in_tea)



> _anon asked: Destiel, genderfluid Cas, hs au. Please? *puppy dog eyes*_ Nonny, you don't even know how much I love genderfluid Cas, okay? I am so here for this shit. Cas’ outfit is based on a photo of Elliott Alexzander with an absolutely gorgeous outfit.
> 
> I would also like to point out that when Dean and Cas finally talk, there is a bit of a conversation of gender and stuff. I thought that it would be best to put in, not only to maybe educate some people, but also because this is how conversations have gone when I try and talk about my genderfluidity (is that even a word? Fuck it, it is now). Please keep in mind that I am basing Castiel’s gender and experience on mine. No one person is the same, so don’t take my word as gospel. Title taken from the Garbage song of the same name.
> 
> ((also pls ignore the abrupt switch in pronouns used))

Dean was so far gone. If Sammy were to see him right now, he’d never let Dean forget it. Ever.

He wasn’t really helping his situation with the whole ‘stumbling-over-your-own-legs’ and the ‘can’t-stop-drooling’ thing. Hell, both Charlie and Benny noticed. Then again, it you couldn’t really blame him, not when Cas was dressed like  _that_.

The raven-haired boy was wearing a white crop top with a black, high waisted skirt that had four thin, leather belts wrapped around his dainty waist. The golden buckles glistened, as if mocking Dean. Black tights accompanied black lace-up boot heels, and around his neck lay a thin, black lacy choker - later Charlie would tell him that it was 'Victorian Era stylised’. His pierced ears currently had large, round, gold earrings and his left wrist was adorned with a grey rock-stud bracelet. Cas wore black, winged eyeliner and black mascara and eyeliner. His lips were coloured with in a deep plum, and his nails were painted in a similar shade.

Dean’s mouth went dry.

It was  _so_  unfair. Cas was hot when he was wearing  _boys_  clothing, for fucks sake, and for him to be equally - if not more - attractive while looking like a girl was just ridiculously unfair. The worst part? Cas was completely ignoring him. He hadn’t acknowledged Dean all morning, and that only kindled the fire burning in Dean’s belly more.

Fuck.

“See something you like?” Charlie slid up to him, grinning. Dean gave her a deadpan look. Trust Charlie to make the most of this.  _Fuck_.

“Shut up,” Dean muttered, and Charlie laughed. It was  _so_  not funny.

“Look, I’m sure you and Cas’ll get to meet up later,” Charlie winked. “Besides, you’re not complaining, are you?”

Dean shot her a look. “I couldn’t care less what Cas wears,” Dean replied, slumping against the lockers. “I’ve still got a massive  _thing_  for the guy, and he’s not making it any easier.”

Charlie’s face fell abruptly.

“You should really talk to Castiel,” she said, offering him a tentative smile, patting him on the back as she turned. “Now, break, after school - doesn’t matter. Just - talk. Okay? I’ll see ya later.”

Dean blinked. He watched the red head walk away, a bounce in her step. Her reaction was weird, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it, as the bell rung and he wasn’t anywhere near the Art class. Fuck. Dean adjusted his books and ran down the hall, pushing through the swarm of rowdy teens, rushing towards the Art room.

He skidded into the room with a mumbled apology, and took his seat behind to Cas, who was  _still_  ignoring him. While he glared holes into the back of the blue-eyed boy’s head, the teacher droned on about charcoal sketches, mentioning something about a sketchbook. He wasn’t really paying attention, not with Cas-fucking-tiel in front of him.

Perfume. He had even put on perfume.

Dean closed his eyes and prayed for a quick end.

 

Forty-five minutes and four broken charcoal sticks later, the bell rang again to signal break. As Dean rushed out of the classroom to go after Cas - who had made a hasty exit - he decided to resolve one of two things.

One: the goddamn crush he had on his best friend, and the fact that he had wanted to kiss him long before now, and

Two: finding out just what the hell was going on.

Fuck.

Dean looked up and down the halls, looking, until he spotted Cas near the back doors that led out to the bleachers. Dean pushed past the kids hanging around the Art door (honestly, didn’t they have something better to do?) and ran towards him. Cas’ skirt swished as he shouldered the door open, momentarily revealing a flash of pink, and Dean stumbled slightly.

“Cas!” he shouted, finally making it past the sea of students. Once again, Castiel ignored him, and Dean swore under his breath as he merely slipped outside. Asshole.

Dean pushed the double-doors open and stormed after his best friend, who was walking between the bleaches. Dean jogged over to him, anger and something else entirely thrumming in his belly.

“Dude!” he said, grabbing Cas’ shoulder. Cas met his eyes, hesitance flashing quickly. "The fuck, man? You’ve been avoiding me all period. You wanna tell me what’s up?“

Cas’ jaw set, a carefully blank look masking his face.

"I wasn’t avoiding you,” he said slowly. Dean snorted.

“Like hell you weren’t. Was it because of this?” Dean waved a hand at Cas’ attire. “Because if it is, man, you shouldn’t have worried.”

Cas squinted his eyes, cocking his head.

“You - you  _like_  what I’m wearing?”

Dean huffed, stuffing his hands into his jean pockets.

“Even if I didn’t, you shouldn’t have worried,” he kicked at the ground. “C'mon, you’re my best friend. S'no big deal. Besides, you’ve pulled weirder shit than this, Cas.”

Cas gave him one of his Dean-only smiles, and almost instantly, his shoulders lost their tension.

“I was worried,” he confessed, brow furrowing as he looked down. “I realise that most people wouldn’t have taken it as well as you have.”

Dean shrugged. “Most people are assholes. Don’t mind 'em.”

Cas looked up again. “There something else.”

“Hit me.”

Cas hesitated slightly. “I - I’d prefer if you would use female pronouns,” he quickly added. “Just for today. Maybe. Depending on how long I feel like this. Just - just.”

Dean considered. Again, it wasn’t the weirdest thing that had come out of Cas’ mouth, and it certainly wasn’t the worst favour he’d been ask to do.

“Okay. But you wanna tell me what this is about?” Dean asked. “I mean, ’m more than happy to oblige, but. Y'know. Why?”

Cas shrugged.

“What’s there to tell? How would you feel if someone used the wrong pronouns for you?”

Dean laughed. “Prolly punch their fuckin’ face.”

“I’ll take that to mean you wouldn’t like it,” Cas shook her head, though the corners of her mouth twitched up. “It’s the same for me. Today I’m a girl. So today my pronouns are female.”

“There a name for this? You transsexual or somethin’?” Dean leaned on one of the bleacher’s support beams.

“Tran _gender_ ,” Cas corrected. “Many trans men and trans women consider 'transsexual’ to be a slur, in the same way some gay people consider 'queer’ to be a slur, despite LGBT youth taking the label back. And no, I’m not. I’m - more fluid. It’s called genderfluid.”

Dean’s brow furrowed. He’d heard of transgender - and transsexual, though he supposed he shouldn’t be using it anymore - both Charlie and Cas were big on the whole LGBT thing. But he hadn’t heard 'genderfluid’. He kinda suspected what it meant, judging by the name and all, but still.

“Some people also classify genderfluid as part of the nonbinary spectrum,” Cas continued, taking Dean’s silence to mean he was confused. “It means I switch and change between genders, although it’s different for every genderfluid person. Some might just switch between male and female, some female and agender, and some get triggered by a certain activity and identify it with a gender type. I switch between four gender types; male, female, neither - or agender - and both.”

Dean blinked. “So uh, is it just random, or…?”

Cas’ eyes light up, and began to talk more animatedly.

“Yes, sometimes it can go for a week, two, a whole month, and sometimes it changes the next day. I haven’t heard of anyone who has like a set routine, though it’d be interesting to find out.”

Dean looked at her for a long moment. “You’ll tell me when you’re what, yeah?”

Cas smiled. “Of course, Dean.”

Dean breathed out. Then he remembered the other reason why he was here.

“So uh, we’re good?” he said, butterflies tearing up his stomach.

“Yes, we are 'good’.”

“Great, 'cause I have to do this.”

He didn’t wait for Cas to respond, instead leaning in and capturing Cas’ lips with his. Cas stiffened, and he was just about to pull back when Cas kissed him back. Dean stepped forward and slid an arm around her waist, the other sliding up into her hair and down again to cup her face. Cas hooked her arms around Dean’s neck and leaned into him, opening her mouth. He could feel fireworks explode in his belly, and heat rushed up into his cheeks. His knees felt weak, and Dean honestly just wanted to laugh with giddiness, because  _holy fuck this is actually happening oh my fucking_.

At the back of his mind, he wondered whether Cas’ lipstick would smear.

Finally, when both teens remembered that air was a necessity, they broke away from each other, and Dean leaned his forehead against Cas’. Eyes the colour of storms stared back at him, and Cas had an awed expression on her face, her swollen lips parted. Dean gave her a hesitant smile.

“So, was that okay?” he asked. The butterflies where

Cas gave him an incredulous look, and pulled him down and kissed him again.


End file.
